


Guts Over Fear

by sisterspooky



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisterspooky/pseuds/sisterspooky
Summary: With J.T in Belfast, and Thomas sick and bedridden, Gemma Teller learns her husband's VP is the missing piece to her stress-filled life. The story of Gemma's rocky beginning, downfall, and new beginning.





	1. Beginning

_Goodbye, dear friend._

  
_That's a lie. This is my fault. I gave clay the power, I gave him my hand with the gun to pull the trigger. I swore he was my goddamn world, but I guess I lied. There are something's you can never know, and this is one. It's now my job to give you a better life; it's now Clay's job to be the father he wasn't. As for that Belfast gash, she will never know the truth, and you will never know of the pain your father caused me. Had to be done. Had to be done..._

  
{ March 1990 }

  
**G** emma moved about the room as calmly and collectively as she could. The night was burning long like her red candles on the vacant dining room table, but Clay had come to check on her since JT had prolonged his Belfast visit. A bit thankful not having to be alone again, she accepted his invitation to help out for a while.  
Clay was inevitably keeping her heart pounding while Thomas was doing the same with her head. As long as Jax, who was Gemma's first born and was 12, had his toy motorcycles he was pretty calm. Thomas, on the other hand, had just turned 6 on January 8th, he was born with the same heart defect as Gemma, a congenital heart defect. It was hard with JT not around, not that she couldn't do it. With JT around she got more help around the house and with the kids.   
Clay popping up in the picture was a miracle. She had started to notice how he looked at her was nearly the same way she looked at him.   
"Sure you don't mind?" Gemma picked Thomas up out of his play pin. Though he could walk and talk, his illness often kept him bed bound. His weight had dropped dramatically, and it nearly pained Gem to see how small he looked in Clay's arms. "Sure, Gem... You sure you're okay?"  
"Oh, I'm fine." She forged a smirk. Of course, she wasn't fine... she was scared to death she was about to lose her son.  
Running her hands over her too soon aging face, Gem looked herself over in the bathroom mirror. The bags of her eyes now a deep purple, and worry lines marring her forehead. _You do this to me, John._  
Wrapping up in a black silk robe, Gemma leisurely crept into the living room to find Clay with a sleeping Thomas in his arms. "He's out?" Her voice was small, exactly how she was feeling. Clay nodded and prudently stood. Silently down the hall and to the right, Clay placed Thomas in his bed. A bed that was sent from the hospital, a bed that reminded her that his days were limited, and a bed he would eventually lay to rest one last time.   
Back in the kitchen, Gemma brewed another pot of coffee. Coffee seemed to be her lifeline these days.   
"Beer? Coffee?" She questioned, turning to face him.   
"Coffee sounds good." He took a seat at the table and fumbled with his kutte.   
", Gem, I don't mean to pry or anything, but any time you need help you can always let me know..."  
"I know, Clay, and I appreciate it...I'm fine..."  
"--you're not... I see how you've changed since JT's been gone... It's eating at you, Gem." His stern voice caught her off guard. Had she really changed that much? Was it really that noticeable?  
Gem grimaced and poured the coffee into two mugs.   
"What am I, an open book?"   
"Nah, I just know how you are... And it kills me to see you this down."  
Oh.  
"You're too good for this..." He added.  
Gemma fidgeted with the handle on her mug, not brave enough to look up. Clay easily had her head in a war with her heart.   
"Listen, I'm gonna stop by tomorrow after church, I know that John said he was coming home, but you and I both know that's probably not the case."  
"I'm sure he will be home, Clay, and I know you have a lot of shit to do, don't worry about me..."  
"I do."  
Shit.


	2. Here

Clay was right, John didn't come home. Gemma waited and waited and when she heard a knock at the door she jumped up only to find Clay.   
He could read the disappointment on her face, he knew exactly why she felt that way, too.   
"Hey," Gem stepped to the side to let him in. "thought you were John...sorry."  
"Don't be, Gem, this isn't your fault. How's he doin'? Keep ya up all night again?"   
How did he know all of these things?  
"Yeah." She raked her fingers through her long dark hair. There was no use in lying to him.  
Gem sat at the dining room table, cigarette in between her slender fingers, across from Clay, who had the most boyish toothy grin on his face. He leaned forward and tapped the ashes from his cigar just as Gemma did the same. Briefly, their hands brushed, but Gem pulled back in embarrassment.  
"What are you thinking about?" He questioned.  
"What are you thinking about?" She mocked.  
Clay threw his head back in laughter, and Gemma watched him carefully as she giggled along.   
"You answer first." He inched closer in his chair.  
"Okay... You, JT, and my boys."  
"Me?"  
"You."  
"What about me?"  
"Why are you so good to me?"   
"Because I care about you,"   
Oh.  
"I just see so much potential in you. You could be the best ole lady, a fierce mother, but with all of this shit... It's all being wasted."  
That's all Gemma ever wanted. She wanted to be the best ole lady, and even more, wrapped up in her family; a fierce mother.  
Is he flirting with me?  
"Gemma?"  
"Hmm?" She snapped out of her own revelry.   
"You know what's going on, don't you?"  
Clay's cerulean hues burned into hers.  
"You know what's going on with JT."  
Gemma nodded, her smile vanishing.   
"Yeah." Her voice was hardly there.  
"Then why are you still here? Why do you let him back every time? "  
"...because he's my goddamn world."  
"What about a galaxy?"  
Her eyes peered up from her hands and back to meet his.   
"You ever thought about something that big? A love that big and meaningful?"  
Gemma continued to watch him. She wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this.  
"What do you mean?"   
"I mean you're reaching for something that's too close... Why don't go for something greater?"  
The brunette took one last hit from her cigarette before putting in out.  
"I don't know...I don't know anything anymore..."  
Clay shook his head, he wasn't having this.  
"Gem, the moment I saw you I knew you were something different, something much different than those crow eaters...but before I could do anything, JT had already had you spellbound... I knew I had no chance... You hung on his every word."   
Gemma's eyes widened and she unconsciously leaned forwards, as if his words were hypnotizing her.  
"So what? I leave JT to be with you?"  
"I didn't say that?" He was holding back a smile. Gemma smiled though, she knew.  
"Clay, I..."  
"Gemma I love y..."  
Thomas started to scream, Gemma abruptly jumped up from her seat dropping her mug of coffee to the floor.   
"Oh shit!"   
She frantically grabbed for the mug, but Clay stopped her.  
"I'll check on him."   
Before she could say anything he was halfway down the hall.  
When Clay came back into the kitchen, Gemma was on the floor cleaning up the remaining chords of broken ceramics. Tears seeping down her face. She didn't notice he was watching her, or listening to her sobs.  
"Gem?"  
She peered up to him over thick, black, running lashes.   
"Don't cry."  
It was too late. This made her cry even more.  
"It's gonna get bad, really bad, but I can promise you, I'll be here."   
Yeah, at least he would be...


	3. Gone

Clay stayed with Gemma that night. The two sat up drinking and smoking. Clay did everything in his power to cheer her up, but every time Thomas cried out, she became less and less herself; as if each time she saw her son in pain it took a toll on her spirit. Times were tough and with John not even making an attempt to come home, the tough times became crippling. How did he expect her to be okay with their son dying?  
When JT did come home the two argued until the night became silent and they seemed so far away.  
"How's my son?" He questioned as he stood in the door frame of their bedroom.   
"Why don't you go take a look, John?" Gemma's anger was getting the best of her; who could blame her?  
Gem put out her bud into the bedside ashtray and stood. "Where've you been?"  
John shook his head and rolled his eyes.   
"You know where I've been... I told you."  
"What does she have that I don't? Let me guess, she doesn't have a sick kid... Things easier with her?"  
Johns' mouth hit the floor. How could he not know she knew.   
"I'm not a goddamn idiot, John."  
Of course, he stormed out and left again; no surprise to Gemma. The night grew cold and worrisome.   
Gem didn't tell Clay JT had come home, she didn't want him to worry. She wanted to be alone.  
She laid in tears in bed all night.  
I love you, but I don't know what to say.  
{April 3rd, 1990}  
Jax shook his mother awake in a panic. Gem rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was 3:39 am, something was terribly wrong.  
"Thomas Isn't breathing!"   
Tears were streaming down the twelve-year-olds face.   
"What?!"  
Gem snapped from her sleep and abruptly jumped up out of the bed.   
Thomas's room was right next to Jax's; the two conjoined by an open doorway. Jax had more than likely woke to his brother's cries.  
Once Gemma reached her sons' room, she grabbed for him in her arms. His skin an off-white, lips pallor and cracked, and his eyes were sunken in. She placed her ear to his lips to listen for any signs of breathing. And when she finally did hear a breath, she began to cry. "Jackson!" She called out and held her other arm out. Thomas was alive.   
"He's alive, baby." She assured him through her breaking voice.  
"I need you to call Tommy's doctor, can you do that?"   
Thomas opened his eyes faintly. Gemma was stunned to see how much the life had been sucked out of him. His eyes no longer shinned that beautiful cerulean hue.  
Jax ran to the kitchen to call for the doctor but didn't get an answer.  
"Call Clay." At this point, she didn't know what else to do but to take him to the hospital. Thomas was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Mrs. Teller we need you  
To fill out these papers."   
A blonde receptionist from behind a desk stapled a stack of papers together, placed them on a clipboard, and handed them over.  
"My son. Not until I know something about my son. Which room?"   
Gemma was frantic, everything about her stone like persona was dissipating.   
"Mrs. Teller, we cannot do anything until we have these papers filled out." The lady's tone was sympathetic yet demanding all at once. This only made Gem madder.   
"Listen here, I'm no doing shit until I know my son is okay... These papers don't mean shit... You just need these so you know how to charge me!"  
"No ma'am we need to know all of his allergies and medical history."  
"You all already have all of that! We've been in and out of here all his life!"  
"Gem?"  
A voice from behind pulled her from the brawl. It was Clay.  
"Clay," she hung her head low.   
"What's going on?"  
"He stopped breathing, and he... He .. I don't know! I'm gonna lose him, clay..."  
Her voice broke and she hoped he didn't hear it.   
Of course he did, because he wrapped her up in his large arms and tears began to flow. She remembered seeing how small Thomas looked in them.  
"Fill the papers out, Gem. I'll keep an eye on him."   
Clay looked to Jax, who was standing before the pop machine. They both knew he didn't fully understand what was going on.  
The old lady agreed to the terms filling out all of the pages, but she did so very quickly. With a one track mind and one track heart, she only cared to get to her son.

Jackson wasn't allowed back in the ICU room where his brother was at first.   
Gemma spent hours watching him sleep. His chest rising and falling. Every once in a while he'd take a deep breath, then would go quiet. Every Time this happened Gemma feared it would be his last.   
"My sweet Thomas, I'm so sorry this is happening to you," his eyes were closed, he was still.  
"The family flaw... You know... When you were born, you were so tiny. The cutest thing I'd ever seen. You were so full of hope, and then I found out I'd passed it to you... I remember that scared the shit out of me... My God you were so sick, but then you pulled through; you made it. Six years, baby. I know you can make it through this..." Mascara and the tears left behind thick lines of evidence that she was falling apart.

Clay sat with an anxious Jax in the waiting room. Thomas' doctor suggested he get some rest. Gem returned to the boys and sat in the chair in between Clay and her son.   
"You okay?" Clays voice was a soothing whisper; velvet.   
She knew if she opened her mouth now she would be in tears again. The only thing she could manage was a shake of the head. She wasn't okay, not even close.  
"I'm so sorry, Gem."   
Gemma looked to her son, who had fallen asleep. His expression angry; he didn't understand why he could go see his brother.   
"They... The doctors have him stabled... But..." It was too late, her voice broke and searing sobs formed in her throat that made her chest swell; She gasped for every word.  
Clay wondered if he should have called JT then; would it even matter? He obviously valued that Belfast gash over his own club and family. Everything he did, everything that he had said was a lie; he didn't care about SAMCRO, he cares about tight pussy and cheap thrills.   
An hour passed and Gemma watched anxiously as one doctor after another passed through the hall. In one way she hoped for good news, but the alternative would be the awful news she knew she couldn't handle.

"John! Yeah, It's Clay."   
You piece of shit. Get your dick out of your Irish gash and get your ass home, "I'm at the hospital with Gem and the boys. I'm afraid it's bad news. It's Tommy...you need to get home, brother." I don't know why you left her alone this long. Why don't you just do the right thing and stay there?  
"No man, I don't think you'll make it. I'm sorry. Gem called me, said Tommy was really sick. She was scared man. She and Jax are heading back now. I think they're about to say their goodbye's, brother..."

Gemma stood like a statue in front of the bed for what felt like an eternity. It was the grip of Jax's hand that pulled her out of her catatonic-like state. "Talk to him, baby." She urged Jax to talk to his little brother. She also knew seeing him do this would break her heart even more; if that were possible.   
"Tommy...it's okay if you've gotta go...I understand." Jax began.  
Gemma pulled her hand up to cup her mouth. She was about to lose it. "I'll be right back," she managed before leaving the room as calmly and collectively as she could. Once behind the closed door into the halls, Gem found herself running. Running to Clay.

Clay shut the phone and stuffed it in the pocket of his kutte. He'd noticed that Gemma and Jax had followed a doctor down the hall. Muttering under his breath to himself, he wished that they still allowed smoking. It was the sound unmistakable click of her heels-No it was the cadence of them that caused Clay to look up to see Gemma, the threads of her world stretched to their limit running his way.  
"Hey, hey, hey, beautiful. Where ya going? Where's Jax Baby?"

Gemma collided with Clay. She grabbed him as she felt her legs giving up. She gasped for a breath in his arms as she sobbed. There was no use in trying to speak when she couldn't even catch her breath. Jax telling Thomas to go was playing over and over like a skipping record player in her head. It was the tone of his voice that rendered her heart to a complete break. He sounded so broken, and it was then that Gemma knew she couldn't even help him when she was in the same state of mind; or even worse.   
Finally, she caught a breath and straightened herself up. Tilting her head back, the old lady looked Clay in the eyes. A shade of blue that she swore could hypnotize her. But not this time. In his eyes, she saw her own reflection, a broken down mother.   
"He's not going... He's not going to make it." Her voice still quaked. Her hands held on to his upper arms for support.  
Clay took her in his arms, holding onto her as tight as he dared. Fuck anyone who might see.   
"I'm sorry Gemma. It's not fair."   
he pulled back enough to cup her chin in his large calloused hand.   
"I know it's shitty Gem. You should never have to go through this babe, but Jax is going to need you. I'm gonna be right here by your side." he kissed her gently. He didn't even notice what he'd done.  
As selfish as it was, Gem knew at that moment she loved clay. He was the one caring for her, he was the one there.  
"I love you, Clay."   
She muttered before thinking about what she had just said. But it was true.   
"Is... JT coming?"   
She felt strongly guilty for following her confession with this question.  
"I love you too, Gem."   
He wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, "He said he would see when the next flight he could get was. So I guess he's headin' home. Don't know exactly when. Let's go see Tommy and Jax."

Something about hearing those three words come from his mouth felt so right, Which was a bad thing. You're married!!! she couldn't help the war between her heart and head that were at full battle. Her heart wanted to let him in, to love him, but her mind still tried to rationalize everything. What if Jax saw? You're still married to John. Your son is dying!!  
For a moment she only stood staring into his eyes. John wasn't coming. If he were that concerned, he'd find a damn way home, and a quick one at that.

"No...."   
the word escaped from her lips before she'd even thought about it.   
"Yes, okay..."   
she grabbed for his hand without thinking out any consequences. Gemma was in a very vulnerable state, she wasn't even sure if she should be thinking about her heart, or if it was selfish of her to be doing so.  
Clay was confused at first. he thought he had pushed her too far in a bad situation. In his relief, he took her hand placing it over his chest letting her feel his heartbeat. With an almost imperceptible nod, he turned her around to lead the way to her son's room.  
Gemma, unfazed, catatonic-like, Followed Clay down the hall and back into her sons' room. "Jackson." Jax turned and immediately his eyes fell to their hands that were intertwined together. "Can he hear me?" Jax questioned. The same lump as before was back in her throat. She managed a nod. Jax continued, "It's okay Tommy. Me and mom, even Clay...we're here.." Gem was a bit surprised he mentioned Clay. She didn't think he had anything out for him, but the look on his face was moot.   
Gem let go of Clay's hand so she could join her son. "Thomas, my baby boy..." She began. This was going to be very hard for her. The doctor came in with a nurse who was administering his medications and instructed that it would be wise to say their goodbyes very soon.  
Gemma heard Clay walking up behind her. He'd found a father mode he did not know he possessed. He eased Jackson into his side resting a large paw on his shoulder. Shuffling a few steps further he gathered Gemma into is arms. Keeping the mother and son in front he whispered quietly,   
"You do what you need to do Tommy. Mommy and Jax are right here for ya big guy. If your tired, Mom and Jax will hold your hand while you go to sleep. Love you, Thomas. You are an awesome tool man."   
He wasn't sure why he felt some compelled to speak, and hoped he wasn't out of place, but everything he said he believed needed to be said.

Gemma swallowed hard hearing clay speak. Everything she couldn't say. She wanted to say go ahead, be free. But something about hearing herself say those words kept her from saying anything at all. She could not tell him it was okay to go because it wasn't. There was nothing fair about this. At all.   
Monitors that Thomas was hooked to started to beep slower, his end was near.   
"No," Gemma gasped, throwing her hand to her mouth. The other she grabbed Thomas' hand, which was cold and pallor. Jax's eyes widened and he took a step closer to clay. He knew what was coming.

For all his strength. For all the power the Club held, Clay stood helpless as the little boy slipped away from this world. There was no fanfare. Life continued on as normal around the hospital. Someone even laughed down the hall.  
Nothing but that fucking monotone beep announcing to the three in the room that the littlest prince was gone. One of the sounds from that day that would haunt Clay Morrow for years. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was doing to the mother who had been caring for him, fighting for him, for the last few months.

The flat line was the worst sound she'd ever heard; over anything. For a moment time stood still, that she swore, and for a moment she was frozen. Her baby was gone, he'd taken his last breath and his spirit was lifted unto God.   
Stumbling backward, Gemma placed her hands over her mouth, and when they began to shake she was forced to drop them down to her sides. Her mouth gaped open as if she were going to exhale a piercing scream, but nothing came out. Her loss, the feeling within, was so heartbreak that she couldn't even make a noise. Her bottom lip quivered, still. It was like a scene straight out of Sophie's Choice. Only this time, there was no choice at all.   
That day would mark a day that Gemma Teller would always be haunted by; a new date to dwell on for the rest of her life.  
Tears finally fell from her eyes and burned more black lines of mascara down her cheeks. She made no attempt to move or say anything, she just stood stone-like, staring at her son who had just left this world.   
Out of peripheral vision, she noticed her older son. How his body quaked and how he attempted to stifle any sob that might threaten his self-assured manhood. Pivoting her body, Gem held her arms out for her son, completely ignoring Clay.   
"Baby," she began, but it was more of a sob.  
Jax turned from Clay's side; immediately running to his mother wrapping his arms around her thin frame. The VP of bikers stood alone, feeling suddenly out of place and awkward watching mother and son mourn together. He felt dirty like he was watching something he shouldn't. Violating a sacred ritual.  
He slunk out of the room going to see if his brothers had arrived. Tears blurred the corridors of the hallway causing him to run into Piney Winston. One look told the visitors all they needed to know. Clay heard rather than saw Luann Delaney sob from somewhere nearby.   
"Gemma?" Tig choked out. Christ the kid had only been with them a short while, but his love of the Queen was obvious. Of course, it was from all of them. However, Alex Trager had a special caring for her. He never minded keeping track of her even when she would give him shit. He did any errand for her only putting up a front of bitching for the guys' sake. And for a man who treated most women like his own personal experimental toys, he respected the hell out of her.   
"Her and Jax need a few minutes." Clay pushed past the group. God, he needed a smoke right now.   
Gemma's body ached and quivered. Nothing anyone had to say could make her feel any better. Losing a child must be the worst thing a mother can experience, and now Gemma would add that to her story.  
Alex attempted to comfort her, but the brunette turned away, as she planned to do for anyone else who tried small talk.  
Her palms were wet from perspiration, and through her veins felt like ice was shooting through them, she was hot as a fever.   
Exhaling a breath she didn't even know she was holding, the taste of blood startled her. She had been chewing at her bottom lip.   
"Sir, the coroner is here."   
A nurse informed Clay, thinking he was probably her husband, because why wouldn't he be? A husband would be there with his wife while their child was dying... Right? Wrong.  
The coroner stepped in, tipping his hat to the broken mother. "Mrs. Teller?" He questioned, looking up from his folder of papers. "So sorry for your loss," he added as he made his way to the bedside. "I ask that everyone but the immediate family please leave the room."   
In a desperate measure, Gemma wanted to protect herself, and perhaps her name.   
"Clay," Gemma turned, catching him before he walked out.  
"Stay."  
"Of course, Gemma,"   
for all his words of being there for her, he didn't know if he could handle this. With Jax still wrapped around her, he enfolded Gemma into his arms staring at the hospital bed. He could feel both of them shaking up against him.   
The man was careful, bordering on reverent in handling Thomas Teller's body. However, it was still devastating, soul-shredding, to watch them cover up his tiny form. After that moment Clay couldn't watch anymore. He couldn't see it all reduced to clinical verifications and bureaucratic paperwork. Tears streamed down Gemma's cheeks. Jax had buried his face against her to muffle his sobs. This time Clay would cry with them.   
This was much harder than she imagined. No matter how many times someone said 'he's in a better place' she knew he wasn't; because he wasn't with her. And a world without her son was definitely hell.

The coroner had Gemma sign off on a document to release the body to the funeral home. A body... Moments ago he was a soul, her son... Now, just a body.  
"We will take it from here, Mrs. Teller," the man nodded. "Mr. Teller," he nodded in Clay's direction. Gemma didn't even mind. Carefully, she turned with Jax still clinging to her and stepped out of the room, stopping right in the door frame, where she turned one last time to her son.  
"Goodbye, baby." She murmured through salty tears, though it probably didn't sound like any words.

{I have to give credit to my dear friend and soul sister, Justice (jadenothergems) for contributing Clays point of view! You're amazing!}


	4. Breakdown

_Give me back the time, you can keep the memories._

Gemma buried her son on one of the coldest days of April. John, still, hadn't bothered to show, and Gemma thought perhaps he was too embarrassed by now. Fuck him. Gemma had Clay now, and Clay would be there for her and Jackson.

Standing before Thomas' tiny casket, the old lady couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like for him if she hadn't passed the defect down to him. Jackson had it too, but it never caused him any plights. Would he have been the next president in line for SAMCRO someday? This only made things worse. Jax stood next to his mother, tucked right under the sleeve of her black jacket. He didn't say much that day, but then again what was he supposed to say? What was she supposed to say? There wasn't a right or wrong way to go about this, and there certainly wasn't some sort of guide on how to get through it either; not one for Gemma.  
After the burial, Clay took Gemma and Jax back to TM for the wake. Gemma really didn't want anything like this, but the guys insisted; losing the young prince and all. So there she stood, by a makeshift easel that had pictures of Tommy with Jax, his father, and some with her on a cardboard poster. What little smile she could muster that day never reached her eyes. If anything she was pissed. Gemma Teller didn't believe she deserves this, and almost didn't believe this was happening. Clay commended the guys to cut the Smalltalk to a minimal; Gemma loathed that shit.  
"how you holding up Gem?" Clay offered her a mug of black coffee and surprisingly, to him, she took it. Her appetite, like many of other things, had vanished.  
"I'm fine." A Lie  
"I'll get you out of here just as soon as I can, baby."  
When had he started calling her that? When did the two become more than friends? When did things become less platonic between the two?  
"Please." Her eyes begged to him.  
Though every emotion she held back would be acceptable, she couldn't bring herself to allow it. She didn't want to break down here, not here, not in front of everyone who respected her for the matriarch she is.  
"Gem, can I get you anything?" Fillip, another prospect, questioned. He too shared the same love for Gemma as Alex. Gem believes both of the boys either had a mad crush on her or some sort of mommy fetish, because both, without a doubt, would do anything, anything for her.   
"No, Chibs, I'm fine." A lie.  
For a second Gemma swore she saw his scar marred cheeks flush Crimson. She then realizes she hadn't called him by his nickname before.  
The gathering was pure evidence that Gemma was loved, and her family extended much further than blood. People she'd never even seen before came up to her and offered their deepest condolences, others offered anything and everything they could from a helping hand with Jax, to a personal maid. But Gemma was and would always be a woman set in her ways. Her stone like persona was only half of her true demeanor. She turned down all the help she truly needed, and forged a cheap grin on her face.   
"We will be okay, thanks." She told them all, over and over. What a liar.

That night, Clay shared that he'd noticed Jax might need a little extra care, and with John not around, he could probably use the man figure around.  
"Care if I talk to him?" He asked, tossing his beer bottle into the trash bin.   
Gem shrugged, at this point, she was worthless, vulnerable, and completely broken inside.   
Clay stood staring at the mother, who sat at the kitchen table with her cigarette between her fingers that had nearly burned all the way down to the filter, for a beat longer.   
He knew she was beyond brave. She hadn't shed a tear since the burial.  
"I'll just be a few..."  
Unfazed, Gemma pulled the cig to her lips but a pile of ashes fell to her lap.   
"Shit."   
She brushed her black pants off, but of course, the ashes smeared. "--Fucking kidding me..." Heading back to the bedroom to change, she overheard Clay talking to Jax.  
"--it's alright man, I know your old man ain't here, but if you need anything, maybe you just wanna blow some steam or shoot some shit, I'm around..."   
That must have been exactly what he wanted to hear because he beamed for the first time in a long time.   
Maybe it was the way Clay spoke to him like and man rather than a child.  
So she kept walking, and yes, she smiled too.  
Gemma slipped out of her clothes carelessly, slowly, she made no attempt to close the bedroom door either. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted him to see, maybe she was so vulnerable in that moment that she actually yearned for a man to come in and comfort her because that was very much like something she would do. That's what happens when you mourn your dead son, that's what happens when your husband's out of the country off with some blonde whore who he evidently loves more than his own son, that's what happens when you're Gemma Teller.  
As if on cue, Gem sensed rather than heard Clay. As she turned she saw him standing in the door frame one hand holding on to his kutte, the other Resting on the frame. "You gonna be okay?" He questioned, keeping his eyes on hers. And though she stood there with her bare body directly in front of his, though he too like all the others came with the title "womanizer", Clay Morrow treated her like a Woman, no, a Queen; rather than a piece of meat.  
The brunette inhaled and exhaled in defeat. "And if I said no?" That was a first for the night that she didn't attempt to lie her way out of a conversation that would inevitably end in tears.   
"Then I'd say I'm not going anywhere." His voice was low, husky even.   
"Then I say I'm not okay."   
Clay shifted his weight from the door frame and began to walk towards her.   
Gemma's body shook from either a chill or anticipation.  
"Let me take care of you." He was inches from her now.   
"Take care of me, make me feel something." It wasn't a demand it was a cry for help. Something she would never, ever, do. Something she wouldn't even say to her own husband, because those words were very uncharacteristic of her.   
But fuck it.   
Sometimes you've got to step outside of your boundaries and feel something.


	5. Hope

_I found love where it wasn't supposed to be; right in front on me._

Clays eyes skimmed her body up and down. She was forbidden fruit, that he knew. But he couldn't stop the inevitable pull the two had. It was as if the earth's magnetic pull was working for only them, the two being pulled together.   
Gemma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as Clay closed the small space between the two. His palm resting on her hip while the other cupped her jaw bone.  
"Make me feel something." She repeated again, her eyes closed, her spirits broken. This time was much more sincere.   
Clay pulled her chin up, "open your eyes, Gem." And she did. His pools of crystal met hers. He searched her through those eyes, read her like an open book, and for a beat longer he waited until he knew this was exactly what she wanted. But it wasn't, it was what she needed.  
Carefully, he chastely kissed her lips. A slow pull back from her, he realized he needed this too.   
The biker lunged forward and took her mouth viciously. His tongue punching against her lips, begging for entry.   
Of course, she surrendered. The matriarch wasn't going to fight for dominance this time, no.   
Clay's hand circled around and cupped the small of her back bringing her even closer, which he didn't think was possible. Her bare skin was flush and hot to the touch.   
Gemma's shaking hands grasped his kutte and hastily pulled it off. Right as she worked at his belt, Clay pushed her on to the bed that was right behind her knees. Breathlessly, already, she clawed at his shoulders. Anything to get him closer, anything to close that space that the world did not want between them.   
"Goddamn, Gem." He growled and climbed up her body on the bed. Her body aligned perfectly with his, this made him smile. Grasping her thigh, he commanded her to wrap it around his back.   
Slowly, but deliciously, he sunk into her. Gem arched her hips instinctively and bit the bottom lip he was going for.  
There was nothing romantic about any of this. She begged him to make her feel, so he did. With every thrust, she moaned, with ever unexpected movement she stifled a scream that could wake Jax, and even then she wouldn't care. Clay nipped at her bottom lip then ran his hot tongue along her jawline. Her breathing became more of a staccato sound. He peppered small kisses along her neck until he found that spot where she placed a dab of perfume and sucked. He was going to mark her, and she didn't care.  
She was feeling now, and it felt good, right, this all felt right. Something so bad as fucking your husbands best friend on the same day as your sons funeral felt right.   
Gemma felt herself tightening around him. The two knew they were very close. Gem took a breath and squeezed his shoulder riding out her orgasm with clenched teeth and eyes while clay continued to pump in and out with delicate speed. So. Fucking. Right.  
And then he collapsed on her, careful, and satisfied; Gemma too.  
She traced small, lazy circles on his shoulder blades until their breathing matched. Calm, collected. She could feel something. This she knew was love.   
Isn't it crazy to declare you love someone after sex? But that wasn't when she knew she loved him, the two had already made that clear. She just knew, now, that she could see a brighter future with him. As the seconds withered away she found herself thinking more intently about that future... And how John didn't even exist in it.  
...............................

Weeks passed by dragging each day out longer and longer. John hadn't made any attempts to show his face around home, TM, or the clubhouse.  
Jackson constantly questioned about where his father was and why Clay was hanging around the house so much.  
It became more of a hassle than anything to think up an excuse.  
But as they days faded Gemma noted her son became more and more keen of Clay. Small banter back in forth became long heartfelt conversations.  
One morning Gemma stopped mid-step on the way to the kitchen when she heard Jax call Clay "Old man" but it wasn't just a term thrown around by the bikers, that term meant father or husband, or significant other. Whether he meant it or not, she wasn't sure. Maybe he was just making fun of him, but her heart fluttered and for once she felt things were starting to work out; the ship was righting itself. Tomorrow was indeed kinder.

"Gem?" Clay stepped into the office at TM searching for the brunette.   
"Yeah?" She stood abruptly from her previous kneeling position. "Papers flew everywhere... If that door is open," she pointed "that door needs to stay shut!" Her nerves were getting the best of her, that was evident.  
"Alright, baby, calm it down." He took a step closer, hoping to touch her, to calm her. Gem took a step back as he took the step forward.  
"Woah, what's wrong?" His brows furrowed and he pulled his sunglasses off and placed them on his head.  
"John called... He's coming home."   
She knew she should be somewhat thrilled, if not for herself for Jackson.  
"Oh."  
Word had started to spread like wildfire, but not one person breathed a sound in her direction. Gemma Teller had found out on her own. And with that information her and JT's relationship sunk to the bottom of their affairs.  
Clay and Gemma had been recently becoming more open about their relationship. Perhaps she just didn't care anymore. If everyone knew of JT's where about's, what, and who he was doing surely she had the right to carry on her affair just as openly.   
Just as long as Jax was kept in the dark. That's all she wanted. Her son could hate him all he wanted, but knowing that bit of truth couldn't happen right now.  
There was never really a time when she sat down and weighed in her options. To her there wasn't an option, rather an opportunity. A new beginning. Clay was her new beginning. A chance to be loved again. A chance to remain Queen. Thoughts poured in obnoxiously all at once over what she should do to make this her reality. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it before. When the word of Johns mistress surfaced, that was when she'd first thought about it.  
Now was time for a new beginning; a new hope.  
It was then she plotted  
The good old King must die.


	6. Start

As if she hadn't already been warned by her father over and over as a young girl, Gemma Teller let the information of her husband's adultery mold her. There was no way the news came to her by surprise if anything it slammed in her face as an "I told you so" from Nate Himself.   
However, as the days came and went, the brunette did not let one single biker in on her scheme she'd plotted. Clay, obviously, being the exception.  
John was coming home from Belfast. When and what time remained up in the air. She and Clay had to work quickly, plot quicker.   
When in doubt, she knew the extremity of it all was pushing the limits, and club rules.  
Clay knew he was putting not only his life on the line but his means of life; the club. Hell, his good name.  
Gemma was risking it all without really risking anything. She'd already lost one son, and as far as John was concerned, she'd lost him long ago as well.

"You think that'll work?" Gemma questioned, peering up from her want ads. A cigarette carefully balanced between two slender fingers. Clay stood a foot away peering out of the window of her TM office.   
"Yeah," he stated simply, turning to face her.  
"It's our only shot at makin' this shit look right. Plus, this won't land on us... Soon I'll be active President and nothin'll matter."   
It wasn't as easy to swallow as she'd hoped, but Clay was right... This might be the only way.

John Teller, for now, would be kept "alive".

\----- the next morning -----

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there." Through the grogginess of his husky voice, Clay managed a tone of concern. He and Gemma, by now, we're the Meryl Streep of concerned acting.  
"Who was that?" Gemma rolled over, rubbing her eyes. It had to be at least five in the morning. The sun had yet to peek from the curtains, and her bird was still silent.  
"--was Piney. It happened."  
The panic set it.  
This was it.  
This was the start of everything.

"Okay."  
"What do we do now?" She questioned.  
"We go to TM, and we act just as shocked as every mother fucker there."  
"Okay."

\----------------------  
"ATF got a hint of JT's flight... Picked him up on some bull shit charge...." Piney's hand shook slightly as he spoke. He was by no means scared, hell he survived Nam', there wasn't an ounce of fear in that man, but word was, this "bull shit" charge could also land JT a good five-year stretch.  
"So what's the word?" Clays brow furrowed, he puffed harder and harder each inhale of his cigar. Gemma stood off to his right chain smoking.  
Method acting at its finest.  
"We're talkin' a few years in Stockton...."  
"Years??" Gemma took a step forward,  
"Goddamn bullshit, where's he at now??" She was ready to charge.  
"I don't know, I've got Bobby on the line now with Unser... See what he knows..." It was obvious he was a bit worried about this whole situation. Piney cleared his throat before he continued,  
"I'm sorry, Gemma."

Piney exited the room closing the chapel doors behind him. Clay turned and looked to Gemma who was staring at a cigarette that had burned passed the point of use.

"Think he---"  
"Shh... Not here."

\---------------

"Church. Ten minutes. I want everyone here." Clay called out to the bikers, and out of Peripheral, he noted Gemma slipping out of the clubhouse door.

\---------------

"This shit with JT, it's gonna get worked out." The man assured, one hand resting on the gavel. "It's a bull shit charge and we all know that...." Bobby nodded and muttered something and piney chimed in, "and if it doesn't?"  
"Then I'll do everything I can as president to get him out."  
President. That felt good to say.  
Piney seemed pleased with Clay's reaction. Clay felt everyone believed he was just as anxious to figure this shit out as they were.   
And for the first time,  
Clay picked the gavel up with a firm grip  
And slammed it down.  
Like a president would.

\-------------------

This plan was going to work. Gemma was sure of that.   
Jackson sat in the backyard with Opie. She was sure by now he knew, but that didn't change the fact that she, at some point today, would have to tell him his father would be going away for quite some time.

Thing was, he wasn't going away for very long at all.  
John Teller would go to Stockton.  
John Teller would be out at the month's end.  
John Teller would ride back to Charming.  
John Teller won't make it.

One phone call would set this whole plan in motion.  
The phone call Clay Morrow had just made.


End file.
